


Frequency

by Marks



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-11
Updated: 2007-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:18:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2953754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting the world twice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frequency

**Author's Note:**

> For alice-and-lain's Spring Fluff 2007 request. She asked for glasses fondling, hand holding, Inui, other stuff I love and love writing. It really was a wonderful thing writing for her.

"You don't have to do this," Ito-kantoku told him. "With your skills, you could play only singles if you wanted."

Yanagi Renji shook his head, sending hair flying in all directions. "No. I've been studying and I know that doubles will improve my form, strategizing skills, and concentration. I need to play doubles."

His coach laughed. "You sure don't talk like a normal six-year-old, you know. Then again, most six-year-olds can barely grip a racquet, let alone defeat kids twice their age. Have you given any thought to who you want to play with? We could hold tryouts with a few of the boys your age..."

"No," Renji said again, with emphasis, bouncing in his chair. "Inui Sadaharu will be my doubles partner."

"Inui-kun?" said Ito, looking surprised. "Yanagi-kun, are you sure that's what you want? He's a good player, but he still has lots to learn and I'm not sure he possesses your natural ability. Minami-kun has shown some promise in doubles. Maybe he'd be a better choice--"

" _No_ ," Renji interrupted. "Inui-kun will be my partner."

"Why him?"

Renji shrugged and kicked out his feet. "Because he's the best choice. I've been watching him, and I can tell that he's willing to learn and he'll work hard, just like me. I already got him a notebook."

"All right," the coach said with amusement in his voice. "We'll give the Yanagi-Inui combination a shot."

"Just watch me, you'll see," Renji said, opening his eyes a little. "Just watch us."

\--

Yanagi lay on his bed, eyes closed, breathing steady and deep as he recited his meditation mantra and tried to push aside everything that happened at the tournament. It wasn't good for him to think this much.

The phone rang, once, twice, three times, as Yanagi debated whether or not he'd let the call go to voice mail. Finally, he sat up and snatched it off his nightstand.

"Hello?"

"Renji!" Sanada sounded completely surprised to hear Yanagi on the other end, a ridiculous prospect considering Sanada called _him_. "You took a long time to answer."

"Three-point-four rings," Yanagi replied. His voice was well within its normal modulation limits. That was a small relief.

"It's usually two."

Actually, on average, it was less than two.

"Renji, are you..." Sanada hesitated, which Yanagi expected from someone who failed so completely at any sort of emotional connection. "Are you all right?"

"Of course, Genichirou. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because of today-- well, it's nothing. Never mind." The memory of Sanada's hand blocked by Kirihara's racquet flashed through Yanagi's mind. "It's good that Seiichi's surgery was a success, isn't it?"

Yanagi smiled. Now he could see; Sanada wasn't calling to reassure him over the day's events, but calling for his own reassurances. Yanagi could do that.

"Yes, I am relieved. Very much so. And how are you?"

\--

"I'm clipping this one out!" Sadaharu crowed, thrusting a folded newspaper page under Renji's nose.

Renji rolled his eyes. "You save too many meaningless things."

"This isn't meaningless. It's our first tournament win."

"The first of many?" asked Renji, smiling despite himself.

Sadaharu was a packrat, and in more than one way. Not only did he willingly scribble down all the data techniques that Renji threw at him, but he'd taken to collecting and keeping every useless fact about opponents they'd long since surpassed. But even if Renji didn't exactly see the point, he was proud of what they'd accomplished together, and not just because it proved his preliminary data on Sadaharu had been correct. And right now, Renji was...happy.

"Of course," Sadaharu said, sticking one finger in the air. "My data indicates--"

"I know all about your data, Hakase," Renji said, trying on their new code names. "Who taught you?"

Sadaharu grinned and nudged Yanagi's shoulder. "It's ugly to brag about your biggest accomplishments, Kyouju. Do you want a copy of the newspaper? My mother saved eight."

"Proof that insanity is hereditary."

"Did you just insult my mother?"

"No. I didn't say it was a bad thing." Renji looked down and watched as Sadaharu picked up a pair of scissors and cut around the article's border. "So, where are you going to keep it? Pinned to the corkboard next to your butterfly collection?"

Sadaharu shook his head. "I made...well, it's stupid."

"I'm sure it's not, Sadaharu," Renji said. Nothing Sadaharu did was stupid. "Show me."

"Okay," Sadaharu replied after a moment's hesitation, handing over the clipping and scissors to Yanagi for safekeeping. He crawled along his bedroom floor and stuck his head underneath his bed. Sadaharu's room was always a mess, just a side-effect of his packrat nature, but it had an order to it that only Sadaharu understood. Though one day Renji would figure out his system, he was sure of it.

Sadaharu crawled backward, dark hair dusty from whatever horrors lurked under his bed, clutching a decorated box between his hands. Pictures cut out from travelogues and tennis magazines were glued all over, and Sadaharu had written their names in careful kanji across the top.

Renji moved in to take a closer look. "I like it," he admitted, tracing the characters of Sadaharu's name, then his.

"One-hundred percent chance we're going to fill this up." Sadaharu pushed Renji's hands off the box, though not roughly, and placed the clipping inside. Renji put the lid back on for him and examined the decorations some more. 'Come to Hawaii!' one advertisement declared in English. Renji wasn't sure what Hawaii had to do with tennis success, but Sadaharu was weird. That was one reason they got along -- and one reason Renji liked him.

Renji studied the decorations on the box again, carefully considering the warm feelings that spread through his belly and outward, before finally lifting his head. Sadaharu was watching him, still looking happy enough to explode.

"Did you know," Renji asked thoughtfully, "that your head sort of looks like a pineapple?"

\--

Inui Sadaharu had saved two-hundred forty-eight newspaper clippings over the past two years. They were meticulously laminated, labeled, and stored in binders, catalogued by tournament, chronology, and player. It was an efficient system, as all his systems were, built for easy retrieval and recall.

_Seishun Gakuen Tennis Club Wins Kantou Tournament_

He touched the headline, staining his fingertips with ink from the paper. A photograph of Seigaku accompanied the article, their arms thrown around one another, grins plastered on their faces. Inui thought he looked strange. Perhaps smiling didn't particularly suit him, or maybe he needed an image change, or maybe it was just a bad picture. More research was required.

_In the match turning point, Seigaku's Inui Sadaharu (3) defeated Rikkai's Yanagi Renji (3) in tiebreak, 7-6._

"That settles that, doesn't it, Renji?" Inui murmured to himself. He walked over to the laminator sitting next to his printer, prepared to file this article away with the others. One perforation, one moment of filing, and he could begin formal training for nationals, and that would be that.

Inui glanced once more at the Lamitron X-3000, sighed, then turned around and dropped to his knees. The article was still clutched in his hand as he crawled along his bedroom floor, even though the likelihood of damage increased twelve percent with that sort of treatment.

The memory box was under the bed, exactly where he'd left it, of course. No matter how many times his parents referenced the earthquake that hit Inui's room, he still could find anything in there in moments. Inui shook the dust out of his hair and ran his fingers over his own name, then Renji's. He opened the box, shuffling through medals and ribbons, clipped out articles long gone brown around the edges, a two-way radio, a toy car and an empty lighter the two of them found one night on the walk home from practice. The Kantou article went on top.

Inui glanced over at the framed photograph on his desk. He'd still like to go to Hawaii, one day. Maybe.

"You never make things easy, Kyouju," he told tiny, picture Renji. Picture Renji didn't reply.

\--

"You seem distracted today, senpai." Kaidoh bent forward to grab his feet, grunting as Inui placed a hand on his back to help him stretch more. Inui raised his eyebrows; Kaidoh's observation skills had improved another two percent.

Inui stood up straight again. "What makes you say so?" He handed Kaidoh a water bottle. Kaidoh looked at it suspiciously. "It's just water."

"You haven't been talking as much," Kaidoh said after a long drink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and handed the bottle back to Inui. "How else am I supposed to learn what Kikumaru-senpai had for lunch?"

Inui nearly choked on his own mouthful of water. Had Kaidoh just made a joke? Sure enough, Kaidoh's lips twitched. "Today he stole Fuji's lunch," Inui said matter-of-factly, then pushed up his glasses. "Perhaps I am a little distracted. I watched the video from our matches against Rikkaidai."

"My match was disgraceful," Kaidoh growled. He bowed his head. "Momoshiro and I shouldn't have allowed ourselves to lose by such a wide margin."

Inui shook his head. "You did fine. Rikkai is an incredibly skilled team; much of our win could be credited to good luck. Besides, you might be able to return the favor during nationals, right?"

"Definitely." Kaidoh stood up and clutched his fist hard. "But that doesn't explain why you were distracted."

"There's no distracting _you_ , Kaidoh," Inui said. "I suppose I was musing on the mistakes I made in my own match." That wasn't expressly true; mistakes, yes, but more along the lines of how long it took for that match to happen. If Yanagi didn't pay him back at nationals, would Inui be expected to wait another four years, two months, and fifteen days before they met again?

The thought bothered him. Quite a lot.

"You played very well," Kaidoh said, looking surprised that Inui would be disappointed in himself. "Without you, the tournament would have been over. I don't think anyone else could have beaten that guy, either."

"Not even Fuji? Or Echizen?"

Kaidoh shrugged. "Probably Tezuka-buchou. But I think you won because you know Yanagi-san so well. And now everyone can see that you're definitely a singles player."

Now it was Inui's turn to look surprised. True, he enjoyed playing singles, but now that Inui had finally begun to accept that data could only bring a person so far, he admitted that there were already three singles players at Seigaku with more talent than him. Most of Inui's successes had been in doubles. He wondered who else thought of him as a singles player.

"I suppose you don't plan on playing doubles with me at nationals, then?" Inui asked. He tried to look nonchalant. "Because I've already begun work on a new training menu."

"Inui-senpai," Kaidoh said, but he didn't get a chance to say anything else because Kikumaru launched himself at Inui's back, almost knocking all three of them over. That would have been interesting to see, Inui thought, even though he managed to keep himself upright. Seigaku dominoes.

"Inuiiiii," Kikumaru whined into his ear, "you're supposed to be playing a match against me now. Or are you and Kaidoh too busy playing footsie for tennis?"

Kaidoh immediately turned red, but Inui just turned his head so his face was right in Kikumaru's. "Jealous, Eiji?"

"NO!" Kikumaru screamed in his ear, then leapt off Inui's back faster than he'd climbed on. "That's gross."

Inui tilted his head, surmising the exact angle to best catch the light off his glasses.

Kikumaru shielded his eyes and made a little whining noise. "Are we playing or what?"

Inui nodded. "Would you and Oishi want to play Kaidoh and me, instead of one-on-one?"

"Yeah, that sounds fun! We'll kick your _butts_ ," Kikumaru laughed, flashing Kaidoh a V. "I'll go get him." He ran off, leaving Kaidoh and Inui alone again.

"Doubles isn't so bad, is it, Kaidoh?" Inui asked.

"No, senpai."

"I'm glad you think so. It's good to have a partner." They started off toward Oishi, who was now dealing with his own Kikumaru piggyback. "I should have the new menu written by the time you return from your evening run."

"All right," Kaidoh said. "I'll call you tonight."

\--

"I'll be waiting tonight!" Sadaharu shouted as he tried grabbing his tennis bag and running and not tripping over his untied shoelaces all at once. "What channel will you be on?"

"The first one that doesn't have truckers talking about ladies and cards!" Renji shouted back, making Sadaharu giggle.

"Ladies and cards?" his mother asked as Sadaharu skidded to a stop in front of her.

"Yes, Mother," Sadaharu said breathlessly. "My two favorite things."

Sadaharu's mother rolled her eyes. "Gambling and women have replaced tennis and Yanagi Renji in my son's heart. I knew this day would come eventually."

Never ever, Sadaharu thought fiercely, though he shoved up his glasses with the back of his hand and said out loud, "Data lost out to alcohol."

"Well, that explains the state of your bedroom. I'm so proud of my drunk, womanizing gambler."

Sadaharu grinned and tugged his mother's sleeve. The sooner he got home, the sooner he could get into the blanket fort and wait for Renji's voice over the two-way radio so they could plan until their parents forced them to go to sleep.

\--

Yanagi didn't know what the hell he was doing. He was responsible enough that his mother and father knew not to worry if he was home a little bit later than normal, but right now he was so far away from home that he knew his parents would begin worrying long before he set foot inside. Perhaps he'd be grounded; that would be novel. It was apparently a rite of passage for people his age, but Yanagi had never exactly followed a normal developmental trajectory.

He sighed and fiddled with the walkie-talkie in his hand. He'd replaced the batteries and, like all of his possessions, had taken very good care of it over the years, so it was most likely in perfect working condition, but the probability that Inui still had his -- that Inui even _remembered_ \-- was very low.

"This is so stupid," Yanagi muttered to himself as he turned on the power. The radio squealed with feedback and crackled to life. He expected to hear the usual lewd trucker talk, but there was only another voice muttering through the speaker: "This is so stupid," the radio told him.

Yanagi blinked in shock and held down the talk button. "Sadaharu?"

There was a long pause before the two-way flared back to life. "Renji?" Inui replied tentatively. "Did I fall asleep?"

Yanagi laughed. Leave it to Inui to conclude that he was having a dream. Though the idea that Inui thought about Yanagi enough that dreaming about him was a normal thing to do caused feelings of extreme pleasure -- oddly enough.

"Unless you've taken to sleeptalking, you're awake," Yanagi said.

"What are you doing?" Inui's voice was half an octave higher than it had been during their match. " _Where_ are you doing? Our walkie-talkies don't work on long range frequencies because our parents refused to buy us more powerful ones. Unless you've upgraded your equipment, which is very possible. Do you think I should purchase a new two-way radio? I admit, my research in that area is rather outdated."

Yanagi pressed the emergency button to indicate he wanted to break into Inui's musings. It had been a long time since he'd been subjected to such a long string of rambling. Too long.

"Sorry," Inui apologized.

"It's all right. No, I didn't upgrade. I am near your-- I was in your neighborhood."

"Is your cell phone malfunctioning?"

Yanagi pursed his lips. No matter how opaque he appeared to the rest of the world, with Inui he was transparent as plastic wrap.

"No," he admitted. "I have been thinking about our match. And you -- why are you on a walkie-talkie we haven't used in four years? Still battling your addiction to women and booze?"

Another pause. Yanagi pictured Inui laughing. Sure enough, when Inui answered he sounded happier and his voice was back at its normal pitch. "You know me too well. Where are you? Do you want me to come outside?"

"It's late, Sadaharu."

"Yes, but not so late that I am bound to my house."

Yanagi considered this. He very much wanted to see Inui, perhaps deconstruct their match, deconstruct their time apart, strategize together again. He wanted to ask why Inui never contacted him in four years, why he decided spying was a better way to get data on his team than just _talking_. But then, he'd have to answer those questions himself, too.

"I have to go. My parents will worry about me," Yanagi said.

"Why bother coming at all?" Inui asked, reasonably enough, but Yanagi didn't have any good reply to that.

"Some other time?"

"Soon," Inui said, and his voice held that note of conviction that meant he'd soon be getting whatever he wanted. Yanagi was familiar with that note.

"Good night, Sadaharu."

"Ten-four, Yanagi-kun," Inui replied, and Yanagi laughed at the subsequent static. He shut off the radio and ran all the way to his train.

\--

Over a week later, Yanagi still hadn't contacted Inui again and since he'd only been grounded for two days he couldn't even use that as an excuse. The grounding wasn't that bad in actuality; he had still been permitted to attend tennis club, which was all that really mattered.

"This is unacceptable!" Sanada shouted, glancing over his shoulder at Yukimura who was watching, but not practicing. Yanagi was glad; he didn't want their captain pushing himself before he was ready. "There isn't much time left to prepare for the national tournament, and _this_ is the practice we're having? Get off my court, Akaya."

Yanagi sighed and propped himself up against the chain-link fence as Kirihara ran over and slammed into it, shaking the links violently.

"Knock it off," Yanagi murmured. Kirihara froze mid-shake.

"Does he really think I'm going to let us lose _again_?" He shot Sanada a murderous glance for emphasis.

"Your concentration is off, your form is atrocious, you've been taking your anger out on the younger players, and you haven't followed the advice anyone has given you."

Kirihara stuck out his tongue. "Yeah, but I won't _lose_ ," he muttered darkly.

"At this rate, you'll be lucky if Seiichi lets you play."

"Yanagi- _senpai_ ," Kirihara whined, "you're as mean as the rest of th-- HEY! GET OUT OF HERE, YOU SPY. SPY! SPY!" Kirihara let go of the fence and pointed accusingly at the trees surrounding the Rikkaidai tennis courts, then waved his hands all around.

Yanagi opened his eyes. It couldn't be. He whirled around.

It was. Inui was emerging from the trees and tugging down a ridiculous blue baseball cap. Who on earth did he think he was fooling with that thing?

"Calm down, Kirihara-kun," Inui said, though one glance at Kirihara confirmed that calming down was pretty much the last thing on his mind. "I'm here to see Renji."

"You're too familiar," Kirihara said angrily. He kicked the fence.

"Stop it, Akaya," Yanagi warned.

"Renji?" Suddenly, Yukimura was next to him. Yanagi hadn't even noticed him getting up, but then again, Yanagi had been sheepishly watching Inui.

"It's fine," Yanagi said. "Do you need me any longer?"

Yukimura chuckled. "We always need you. But if you have important matters to settle, then you may go."

"Thank you, Seiichi." Yanagi jerked his head toward the fence's opening, grabbing his bag before he left.

Inui walked alongside him, running his hand along the fence. "Is this an acceptable time limit for soon?"

"Perhaps," Yanagi said, smiling as he walked off the court. "Any reason for this visit?"

"Yes," Inui said. "To see you. Will you play a match with me?"

"Of course, Sadaharu. I know a place," Yanagi said. He stood close to Inui and pulled the hat right off his head. "Who do you think you're fooling in this get-up?"

Inui plucked his hat from Yanagi's hands. "Obviously not you."

\--

They gave Renji the news shortly after dinner: his father had gotten a transfer, and they would be moving at the end of the month. He was told there were great tennis schools in Kanagawa, and that there was a middle school with a national-level club.

"But..." Renji stared down at his empty plate. What about their combination? What about Sadaharu?

"It would be good for you to make some new friends, Renji," his father said gently. "Didn't you always plan on returning to singles?"

\--

Sadaharu played horribly with another partner. There was no way he'd ever play doubles with someone else as well as he had with Renji, he just couldn't. Wouldn't. Why did Renji... _where_ was he?

"I'm quitting tennis," he announced as soon as he got home. Sadaharu squeezed his eyes tightly shut, ignoring the tightness in his throat. He was too old to do this.

"Sadaharu?" asked his mother, ducking her head into the front hall as Sadaharu changed into his slippers. He took a deep breath and forced his face into an unreadable expression.

"I don't want to talk about it."

She raised an eyebrow. "All right, it's your choice. Though it would be a shame to see all your hard work wasted. What's bothering you?"

"Nothing." He pushed past his mother and ran into his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Sadaharu dove for the box under his bed. "Renji?" he hissed into the two-way. "Renji?" But there was nothing but static.

\--

"This isn't right," Inui said, his muttering audible even across the court. He chased after Yanagi's serve. "Left corner, straight shot."

Yanagi had to jump back from the force of Inui's return. It slammed down centimeters from Yanagi's feet and lodged itself into the fence behind them.

"15-40," Inui called, then in his mutter again: "Definitely wrong."

"Is something bothering you, Sadaharu?" Yanagi stretched up for his serve, frowning as Inui jogged almost leisurely to return it. He ran across the court to pick up Inui's shot, but his reach was short.

"2-0. Yes. You're not playing your best."

Yanagi swore under his breath. Yes, something was off. Hadn't he wanted this? To play Inui again, to pay him back for the loss at Kantou? That match had been the best he'd ever played -- a match that Inui had manipulated and controlled from the start. The match that caused Rikkai to lose their title for the first time in twelve years.

And it had been all his fault. He felt a sudden flare of anger.

"What do you want from me?" Yanagi asked, approaching the net.

Inui looked down. "I simply wanted to play you again. I thought..."

"Play me, or defeat me again?"

"What?"

"Answer the question, Sadaharu."

One glance at Inui confirmed that he wasn't evading, only disbelieving. "I meant what I said to you before; every time we play, either of us has a fifty percent chance of winning. We're evenly matched until one of us surpasses the other."

Yanagi gripped his racquet. "And what makes you think you haven't already surpassed me?"

"I have your data, Renji," Inui reminded him. Then he was walking toward Yanagi, not stopping until only the net separated them. The distance still seemed great. "More data than anyone else has on you. Beyond that, I...I just know."

"Do you?"

"Don't _you_?"

Yanagi smiled a little, lifting one corner of his mouth.

"I wanted to play you, Renji," Inui said. "Against you, with you, it doesn't matter because it's _you_. Yes, I want to defeat you. I want to defeat everyone. But mostly--" Inui cleared his throat and shuffled his feet.

"Mostly what?"

It was almost certain that Inui was going to touch him. Somehow Yanagi just knew.

"Mostly," Inui said, putting his hand on Yanagi's jaw, "I don't want you to leave again. We're partners. Have you forgotten that?"

There was an odd sort of electric tension surrounding them, kind of like the crackling of a two-way radio when it ran into interference. Yanagi hesitated for a moment before leaning into Inui's palm. He tilted his chin up.

"I'm sorry I never called or wrote," Yanagi said. "I didn't forget you. But I didn't want to interfere with your life if I couldn't be part of it."

"Renji," Inui said, and Yanagi vaguely identified the sound of two racquets clattering onto the court, "you've _always_ been part of my life. Haven't you figured that out yet?"

"I suppose my data was incomplete," Yanagi admitted, feeling Inui's breath warm against his mouth.

"Then consider that a gift," Inui murmured and kissed him.

Yanagi had contemplated this possibility before, just once, years ago, after the umpteenth joke about the way he and Inui were joined from shoulder to knee, but it had been only once, and years ago, and when hormones were barely a flutter instead of the constant buzz against his skin that he was now accustomed to. Years ago, he wondered what it might be like to press his mouth to Inui's briefly, the way his parents did every morning. But boys and boys weren't meant to do the things boys and girls did together, and Yanagi had quickly dismissed the notion as an impossibility.

It seemed he'd miscalculated. Badly miscalculated. He'd miscalculated on an awful lot.

Yanagi hadn't factored in the way their hands would reach for one another, Inui squeezing Yanagi's shoulder while Yanagi wrapped his fingers around Inui's wrist. He didn't know about the desperate noises he was apparently capable of making, or the way his tongue would immediately find Inui's a second after Inui made a sound of his own. Years ago, he wouldn't have thought that Inui's lips would be soft against his, about the interesting scratch of facial hair, about the burn just underneath his skin, the way his lungs couldn't get enough air, his heart enough blood.

"Sadaharu," Yanagi murmured once he'd pulled away. He was no longer holding Inui's wrist, but instead clutched tightly at the front of Inui's jersey. The net no longer seemed like the vast divider it had been only seconds before, now just a scrap of material separating them. "I want..."

"What, Renji?" Inui sounded like he'd run a marathon and his glasses had slid all the way down his nose. Yanagi could see how wide Inui's eyes were behind them.

Yanagi opened his eyes, met Inui's. "I want to kick your ass all over this court."

Inui laughed, loudly and with surprise, and stepped back, out of Yanagi's grip. He bent down to pick up his racquet and peered up. "Come, Renji," he said. "Give me everything you've got."

Again and again, thought Yanagi as he stooped down to retrieve his own racquet. Always.

\--

Inui stood on a set of unfamiliar steps, reminding himself that it was acceptable to be here now, even with so little time before nationals. It was for data collection, after all. Inui smiled to himself. Okay, perhaps a bit more than data collection.

"Good evening, Sadaharu," Yanagi said, throwing open the door. He had a thin folder tucked under his arm. Inui enviously hefted his bag up on his shoulder, thinking of the five additional kilograms in his bag -- but then again, Yanagi's method of data collection had always been very different from his.

"I have something good for you," Inui said, stepping inside and pulling off his shoes.

Yanagi smirked. "Oh?"

Inui felt his face grow warm, but he smirked back. "Not that, Renji," he said, with the sudden realization that sleepovers would now take on a whole new meaning. "The Nagoya Seitoku dossier."

" _Oh_ ," Yanagi replied, and though his expression shifted only a little, he now looked interested in a whole new way. Inui was proud that he could still discern the difference in Yanagi's expressions.

Yanagi led Inui into the house. It looked very different from his old house, much more modern, but Yanagi's mother was smiling at them from the kitchen, and that was very much the same.

"Sadaharu-kun, you've gotten so tall! How are your studies?"

Inui smiled back at her and bowed. "Fine, Yanagi-san. Thank you for asking."

"It's so nice to see you. Renji, dinner will be ready in a half-hour."

"All right, Mother," Yanagi replied. "We'll be in my room."

They made their way toward Yanagi's room, Inui studying the framed photographs hanging on the wall. The photographs of Yanagi and his sister at every age got progressively older as they moved down the hall, reminding Inui of an evolutionary chart.

"How is Seigaku's training going?" Yanagi asked, shaking Inui from his thoughts.

"As well as expected," Inui said. "I have mostly been concentrating on improving my doubles combination with Kaidoh. He and I have been training together."

"Doubles? I always thought you'd turn out to be a singles player, Sadaharu."

Inui raised his eyebrows. So Yanagi had thought so, too. "I suppose I'm more flexible than people would expect."

"Hmm." Yanagi pushed open the door to his bedroom, so Inui could see he was smirking again.

Inui shook his head and stepped inside. "How is everyone at Rikkaidai?"

"Prepared," Yanagi replied, "but we could be more prepared. That's where you come in."

Inui heard Yanagi, but he was also busy examining the bedroom. It looked almost exactly as it did in Inui's memory and that was ridiculous because it wasn't even the same house. But except for a larger bookshelf and a poster of Roger Federer, the set up was the same: Yanagi's desk, his bed, and even his closet were exactly as Inui remembered. He dropped his bag, and glanced over his shoulder.

"I like order," Yanagi admitted. He shrugged. "Change can be good, but so can familiarity."

Inui smiled. Yanagi shut the door behind him.

"Sadaharu," Yanagi said, making Inui's breath stutter even though he'd heard Yanagi say his name hundreds of times before. Thousands. Maybe it was the way Yanagi was watching him, memorizing him all over again, seeing whatever it was that made Yanagi pick Inui in the first place. Or maybe it was the way Yanagi was walking toward him, tossing his data folder onto his bed without even looking.

"Renji," Inui replied and let Yanagi back him up against his desk. Yanagi stopped just short of Inui, close enough that Inui could feel how warm Yanagi was.

Yanagi tilted his head to one side and reached up, slipping his fingers under the arms of Inui's glasses. Inui wondered if this constituted a moment of passion; he was fairly sure their kiss on the tennis court qualified. In movies, whenever there was a moment of passion, glasses were flung across rooms, shattering in a satisfying crunch of glass and twisted wire. Yanagi ran his fingertips along Inui's temples, going from his ears to his eyebrows then back again before pulling Inui's glasses off, folding them, and gently placing them on the desk.

Inui was glad. It would have been impractical to lose his glasses in a careless fling. Besides, considering the way Inui's body hummed as Yanagi studied him, this definitely counted as a moment of passion, and considering how badly he wanted to do this on a regular basis, it would make his parents angry if he had to replace his glasses every time.

"Renji," Inui said again, or sighed it, and Yanagi's eyes were open and his face was very close.

This kiss was different from their first one and not only because Yanagi had initiated it. It wasn't as needy, but it also wasn't as uncertain, and Inui worked hard to keep all noise to a minimum, even if it was hard with the electric current that started up when Yanagi bit his lip and slid his tongue inside Inui's mouth. Yanagi tasted like tea and milk, and Inui was suddenly glad he'd eaten a roll of breath mints on his train ride over. Inui pushed his hands underneath the back of Yanagi's shirt as Yanagi wrapped his arms around Inui's waist, pulling their hips close together.

There was a knock on the door, and Yanagi jumped away like he'd been burned. "Renji," called Yanagi's mother, and Inui was really happy for mothers that knocked, "you two should probably wash up for dinner."

They smiled guiltily at one another.

"All right, Mother," Yanagi called back. Inui had to hand it to him; his voice was only six percent hoarser than normal.

"We'd better do as she says."

"I see you remember my mother very well," Yanagi said, expression deadpan.

Inui chuckled, and bent down to pull three binders, four notebooks, and two brown folders secured with rubber bands out of his bag.

"Are you selling national secrets, Sadaharu?"

"Only on Sundays," Inui replied with his own deadpan look. "Did you want to go over this after dinner?"

"For a time," Yanagi said, making Inui laugh again.

"We're both getting to the finals," Inui declared, placing a hand on top of his pile. "This much data assures it."

Yanagi smirked at him. "And I'll beat you this time."

"Like hell you will," Inui said, then stood up and kissed Yanagi again.

They ate dinner, while Inui made polite conversation with Yanagi's parents. After dinner, they compared Hyoutei information, Yanagi recited every fact he knew about Higa Chuu as Inui wrote so quickly that his hand got a cramp, and Yanagi had to massage it out, which led to an unfortunate incident that completely ruined Inui's data on Fudomine's Ishida. Not that Inui had minded particularly. By the time they went to sleep, Yanagi in his bed, Inui in a sleeping bag on the floor, Inui's head was spinning over how things were so familiar and strange all at once.

Inui spent an hour blurrily staring at Yanagi's ceiling, until Yanagi slipped onto the floor and into Inui's sleeping bag. Inui had to unzip the whole thing to accommodate him, which meant there was barely a point to the sleeping bag, but once they were settled Yanagi had his arms wrapped around Inui's waist, his warmth seeping into Inui's back, so it hardly mattered at all.

"This is so childish," Yanagi muttered into his Inui's ear. "But that's all right, isn't it, Hakase?"

"Don't be an idiot, Kyouju," Inui replied, putting his hands on top of Yanagi's.

\--

"Happy birthday, Sadaharu," Renji said. He held out a wrapped gift, topped with a perfect red bow.

"Happy birthday, Renji," Sadaharu said. He held out his own gift, wrapped in seven spare sports pages. The little Renjis and Sadaharus in the newspaper grinned up at them.

The actual Renji and Sadaharu exchanged grins of their own and tore into their presents.

"A two-way radio," they said in unison, laughing their heads off. "Just what I wanted."

"Even if our parents wouldn't allow the higher end model," Sadaharu said mournfully.

Renji punched Sadaharu's arm. "We don't need to interfere with air traffic."

"Yet. We're going to try these out tonight, right? We have a lot of planning for next weekend if we're going to continue our winning streak."

"I knew we'd make the perfect doubles combination as soon as I met you," Renji said. "I knew it."

"We're gonna get the whole world," Sadaharu said, punching Renji back. "Just watch us."

"Ten-four, partner!"


End file.
